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“Did it? You’ve got a real gift for self-expression. You should be a writer when you grow up. That would be, what? When you’re fifty?”
“Don’t be such a wise-ass. It wasn’t right, Flower, not telling me you were a…newcomer.”
She smiled sweetly. “Afraid I wouldn’t respect you in the morning?” She was getting good at matching him wisecrack for wisecrack, but she wished he’d stop arguing and kiss her. She began opening drawers at random, looking for a rubber band.
“Damn, it, Flower! I wouldn’t have been so rough.”
“That was rough? You’ve got to be kidding. I could take you with my eyes closed.” She found a rubber band and pulled her hair into a ponytail high on her head. Then she walked into the living room and scooped up a batch of chunky candles she’d seen on the table.
He followed her in as if she were a kid who needed watching. “What are you doing?”
“Getting ready to take a bath.”
“It’s almost three in the morning.”
“So what? I’m stinky.”
For the first time since she’d walked into the kitchen, he relaxed. “Yeah? Why is that?” He almost managed the cocky grin that made her want to slap him and kiss him at the same time.
“You’re the expert. You tell me.” His sweatshirt didn’t completely cover her panties, and she twitched her rear as she walked away from him.
She set the candles around the edge of the sunken tub, lit them, and poured in a generous amount of bubble bath from a bottle sitting on the side. Somehow she didn’t think it was Jake’s. She hated every single woman he’d ever dated.
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sp; While the tub filled, she twisted her ponytail into a loose knot and secured it with a clip she found in the makeup pouch she kept in her purse. No matter what Jake said, she didn’t regret what had happened between them. So much of her life had been forced upon her. This choice had been hers alone. And when he’d been inside her, she’d felt as if her heart would burst with the enormity of her love for him.
She slipped into the water. The candles flickered in the wall of glass suspended over the side of the cliff, and she felt like she was floating in space. She remembered that sweet moment when he’d entered her and his tenderness afterward.
“Is this a private party, or can anybody join?”
He was already unzipping his jeans, so the question was rhetorical. “Depends on whether you’re done with your lecture.”
“Lecture’s over.” He muttered something as he stepped into the tub and eased down beside her.
“What did you say?”
“Nothing.”
“Tell me.”
“All right. I said I was sorry.”
She pushed herself up on her elbows. “Sorry for what? Exactly what are you sorry for?”
He must have heard the unsteadiness in her voice because he pulled her into his arms. “Nothing, babe. I’m not sorry for a damned thing except being so rough on you.”
And then he was kissing her and she was kissing him back, and her hair came undone and neither of them noticed. They wrapped their legs and arms together, fell back in the bubbles, and Fleur twisted her hair around them both. Jake pulled the plug so they could breathe, then began loving her in that delicious way that made her cry out again and again until he stilled her with his kisses.
Afterward he wrapped her in a towel. “Now that you’ve worn me out,” he said, “how about feeding me? I’m a lousy cook, and I haven’t had anything but ice cream and potato chips since I got here.”
“Don’t look at me. I’m a rich kid, remember.”
He fastened a matching towel around his hips. “Are you telling me you don’t know how to cook?”
“I might remember how to hard-boil an egg.”
“Even I can do better than that.”
